An Alliance Borne of Grief
by ariestess
Summary: It's only been a few hours since things in your life, in all people's lives, changed completely. Part 6 of the #666foryou series.


Spoilers: Set in the early morning hours right after the events of the series finale. Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.

A/N: This started out as an attempt at a Bechdel Test Pass fic in a fandom that really does revolve around a man. I skirted the limits of the test a couple times, but I think I passed ultimately. And it's given me a tentative new alliance to explore. Two strong, powerful women teaming up to rally behind the Antichrist? Gimme more of that!

Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.

Series: Part 6 of the _#666foryou_ series

Please see profile for Disclaimers.

* * *

"Can- Can I talk to you?"

Glancing up, you take in the pallor to her features and automatically motion to the chair next to yours. "You should be resting."

"Can't sleep," she replies sheepishly as she drops heavily into the chair. "Every time I close my eyes, I can feel it happening all over again."

This isn't exactly a surprise. It's only been a few hours since things in your life, in _all people's lives_ , changed completely. And you say as much to her. Strangely enough, it's the reason why you're sitting in this chair with nothing better to do than lamely check your email and wait.

"I- Are _you_ okay?" Her question startles you; your expression must reflect that. "You've had a pretty trying night, too." She glances toward the stained glass window behind you. "It's morning already and I'm not sure how to process the last like thirty-six hours. I can only imagine how you feel."

"How I feel is of little concern to you, I'm sure," you reply, bristling at her attempt at camaraderie. She knows nothing of your feelings, your needs. She was an enemy prior to last night's events. For all you know, she still is.

"Look, I get that you don't give a shit about any of us," she says, nostrils flaring with her anger, "but I'm trying to convey my condolences here. I was there when your daughter got shot. I fought to get her medical attention to save her life."

"So you're looking for my eternal gratitude then, is that it?"

"No!" She bolts out of her chair, swaying only slightly as she paces in front of you. "Jesus, are you always this much of a bitch?"

That brings you to your feet, halting her in her tracks. Leaning in closer, you put on your most intimidating glare, even as the ache yawns like an abyss in your chest. "I do what is necessary for things to get done properly. I have been doing this for far longer than you've been alive. Either time."

She stares at you, meeting your gaze for a long time, even as her eyes skitter back and forth slightly. A part of you wonders what she sees as she looks at you, but the greater part of you really doesn't care. And then she takes a step back, face softening with exhaustion and grief.

"She was calling for you, you know," she finally says, and her words make you blink.

"Excuse me?"

"Veronica. When Sister Greta had us held prisoner, your daughter was calling for you. Wanted to know where you were. She was delirious from the pain and the blood loss, but she had her priorities. And you were definitely on her mind."

You sag back down into your chair, speechless from this newest revelation to a situation that has spun so far out of your control, it terrifies you. The lack of control is akin to a level of panic you have never wanted to feel since your first daughter's death.

"Sh-She did?" A flush of indignation flares up at your stammering speech, and you clear your throat. "I'm sorry that I couldn't get here in time to save her. The Power chose her as a sacrifice, willing or otherwise, and I have to focus on that. Grief is a useless emotion that-"

"Bullshit."

Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing as you glare at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Grief is not useless. It's a helpful tool to being able to move on with your life. It's helped me deal with Kelly's death."

"Do not presume to know how I feel or what I need to move on. You buried your sister? I've buried two daughters. Or will soon enough with Veronica. You have no idea the grief I have seen."

She's silent for a long moment, and it allows you the chance to calm your breathing again, let your heartbeat slow to a more normal pace. And then she sighs and settles in the chair next to you.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm feeling out of sorts about… Well, about everything. I didn't mean to antagonize you about Veronica or anything. I really was trying to offer my condolences. I'll- If you'd prefer, I can leave you alone. I'm sure I can find some wine in this place to drink and help me sleep."

That brings a smile to your lips. "You'd use sacramental wine to sleep?"

"Well," she says with a sheepish grin, "it's not like they've got any other booze up in here, right?"

A deep breath or two settles you into some semblance of normalcy again, and you cock your head to the side as you study her face. She just told you that she tried to do right by Veronica, even if it was in vain. Surely you can set aside your differences for a little while now, can't you? Help this young woman transition into whatever new role she's about to have in the plan.

"I apologize for my harsh words. Grief…" You don't finish the sentence, you don't need to. She understands and nods to indicate as much. "Let's find you someplace quiet and I'll see if I can't help you get some rest."

"But-"

"Consider it a thank you for trying to help my daughter."


End file.
